Sunday, 16 April 2017

Craft bjór í Reykjavík

As just about any article on the subject will tell you, Iceland’s
beer culture is very young. In fact, beer over 2.25% ABV was illegal in Iceland until 1989, long after prohibition on other stronger alcoholic beverages
was lifted. You’d be forgiven, then, for not making a mental connection between
Iceland and beer beyond the country’s reputation for eye-wateringly expensive
pints.

In recent years, though, we’ve seen Einstök beers become
increasingly common in the UK, imported by James Clay. I’ve always thought that
their popularity here rested on the exoticism of their Icelandic origin rather
than the perfectly well-made but generally unexciting beers, but you’ll find
plenty of Einstök in Reykjavik, too. I didn’t drink any – I can get them at
home, and you don’t have to look too hard to find plenty of interesting
alternatives.

Flight of Icelandic beers at Micro Bar

A tip I picked up from Kaleigh’s excellent blog proved very useful – stocking up at the airport. Upon arrival at Keflavík
airport, you’ll see a large duty and tax free shop which stocks a decent range
of Icelandic beer in six packs. There are two good reasons to load up here –
firstly, the prices are good and worked out to about £2.50 per bottle on our
purchases, and secondly, buying beer in the city is not as simple as you’d expect.
One of the conditions of Iceland’s uneasy relationship with beer is that normal
shops can still only sell low-alcohol beers, and anything stronger must be
purchased in the stated owned Vínbúdin stores. There are a couple of these in
Reykjavik including one on the main shopping street, but I never once saw it
open. So if you’re planning to take beers home or buy something to drink in
your hotel, the airport is your best bet. There are duty free shops on the
departures side that sell beer, too.

Our purchases here served as our introduction to Borg Brugghús,
based in Reykjavik and common in bars and restaurants. Borg is actually a
smaller enterprise within the large Ölgerðinbrewery which makes Iceland’s mass-produced lager, Gull. This kind of
arrangement rarely pays off in the UK but seems to be working beautifully in
Borg’s case — they produce a huge range of varied, bold and ambitious beers. In
bottled form we sampled Leifur, a saison brewed with arctic thyme and heather.
It has a very earthy aroma and a moderately funky note in the flavour. The
herbal and floral notes add some depth to the typical peppery saison
characteristics, and the brisk carbonation is palate-cleansing and refreshing.
Snorri, a witbier, also has artic thyme in it, which adds a delicious and
satisfying depth to what can be an insipid style.

We arrived at the hotel just in time for happy hour at Uppsalir,
the smart little adjacent bar. Luckily, happy hours are common in Reykjavik — whilst I'm used to paying higher prices in craft beer bars and the prices in Iceland never made me jump out of my skin, it's certainly not cheap — and
most of the craft-focused bars have them. The deal here was particularly good
with two-for-one offers on draft beer, including a rotating pump dedicated to
Borg. Garún, a wonderful imperial stout, was pouring on our visit — hugely rich
and decadent, it was bursting with brown sugar, milk chocolate, caramel and
vanilla, but also had enough of an austere booziness and a gentle acrid
bitterness in the finish to balance it out. With dinner, I had Úlfur, a solid
IPA with a floral hop character that reminded me of Thornbridge’s Jaipur,
albeit with more of a caramel malt foundation.

Later, we headed to Kaldi, a buzzing bar operated by Bruggsmiðjan,
the first microbrewery to open in Iceland in 2006, and serving only Icelandic
beers. I had a few tasters of the brewery’s beers but none really appealed, so
I ticked off yet another Borg offering with Úlfur Úlfur, their double IPA. This was fantastic — although ostensibly a
souped-up version of Úlfur, it was much paler, which allowed the hops to lead
with deeply dank and resinous notes and lots of sticky orange.

The next evening, we decided to check out Mikkeller and Friends. I
like to stick to local beer when I’m travelling, but I was intrigued to visit a
Mikkeller bar, and the availability of exclusive ‘house’ beers twisted my arm.
Of these, I had Hverfisgata Brown, a very smooth and clean brown ale with
citrus and sherbet notes alongside fresh peach and apricots. The rest of the
extensive selection was largely dominated by To Øl, with more Mikkeller and a
couple of Warpigs beers available, too. The bar itself was a bit too achingly
hip to enjoy and felt a bit sterile and stuck-up; we only stuck around for one,
although our round was free due to a problem with the card payment system!

I much preferred the atmosphere at Micro Bar. Originally, the bar
was situated in the Center Hotel, but has now moved to a larger, cosy basement
space just across the street. All of the taps are dedicated to Icelandic beer,
including a handful from the Gæðingur brewery that run the place. I opted for a
tasting flight which included several of these. Hveiti is sold simply as ‘wheat
beer’ and tasted more like a Belgian wit than a German weizen, with a tangy
citrus finish that tasted like juicy orange flesh. Sadly, the Pale Ale that
followed was ropey stuff, with a dirty, yeasty flavour that wiped out any
suggestion of hops. Strange, then, that Tumi Humall, their IPA was so good, and
so clean — dank pine followed by sticky mandarin and mango. After skipping the Bruggsmiðjan
beers at Kaldi, I sampled their Black IPA here and, although not as hoppy as
I’d expected, I really enjoyed it. It had the appropriate focus on smooth,
chocolatey depth of malt flavour over aggressive roast, with a peachy hop
character in the finish.

The final beer on the board was OMG Súkkulaði Porter from Ölvisholt Brugghús, based in the countryside about 45 miles outside Reykjavik. This was a
slightly sweet and very rich and creamy porter, with a slight nutty quality
that makes me think it may be made with oats. I came across Ölvisholt again the
next day when we took a day-trip to the amazing Sólheimajökull glacier. On the
way back we stopped for dinner at Hotel Anna, a lovely restaurant and hotel on
a farm in the middle of nowhere. In need of sustenance and warmth after a long
day of fresh air and exercise, I had some delicious vegetable soup and a bottle
of Lava, Ölvisholt’s smoked imperial stout. I didn’t get a huge amount of smoke
from this, and what there was seemed to fade fast as my palate adjusted.
Luckily, the stout itself is fantastic – rich, warming, gently roasty and
ever-so-slightly acidic, especially recalling red wine in its dry, tannic and
tangy finish.

Our final destination before leaving Reykjavik was Skúli, a warm
and welcoming bar in the centre of town. This was directly opposite our hotel
on a courtyard, though there are no really obvious signs — I didn’t realise it
was there until I looked it up on Google maps and found it was 100ft away from
where I stood. Micro Bar is just down the street, and Kaldi and Mikkeller are
both less than 10 minutes away — Reykjavik is very compact. Five of the taps
are dedicated to Icelandic beer, mostly from Borg, with others pouring beers
from the likes of Mikkeller, Founders, Stone Berlin and To Øl. To close the trip, I drank Tilraunalögun, Borg’s
artic berry saison, which was an absolute treat, deftly balanced between sharp
and sweet, recalling Rodenbach’s sensational Caractére Rouge.

Even this isn’t the complete picture — I didn’t have time to visit
Bryggjan Brugghús, a brewpub situated near Reykjavik’s marina. That such a tiny
city has so much to offer beer-wise is pretty amazing, really, and though it
may be hot springs, geysers and glaciers that send you Iceland, looking forward
to some great beer in the evening makes any holiday better. Skál!